


Frustration

by CasusFere



Series: Flash Fiction [18]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasusFere/pseuds/CasusFere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brawl and Blast Off, on an aborted mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration

  
“Blast Off! Return to base!” Megatron’s voice barked through the comm.

“Acknowledged,” Blast Off said calmly, tilting his wings back towards the planet and preparing for re-entry.

“What?” Brawl protested. “We barely broke atmosphere! Why the frag are we turning back?”

“Orders,” Blast Off said, tone still cool and unaffected.

“Stupid fragging orders! He sends us up, then turns around and orders us straight back!” He flopped back in the seat, folding his arms in disgust. “Waste of fragging time!” He scowled at the console in front of him. “And you, just doin’ everything he fraggin’ says like a fraggin’ lapdog.”

Blast Off didn’t bother looking up the human term. Obviously, the tank spent too much time around Swindle. “The programming requires us to obey, Brawl. There is no point in fighting it.”

He was right, and Brawl knew it. “Yeah, well, stop bein’ so calm about it,” Brawl grumbled. “It’s fraggin’ annoyin’.”

Blast Off didn’t respond, numbers flashing over his monitors too fast for Brawl to read, much less understand, as the shuttle made the thousand tiny course adjustments needed. He assumed they made sense to Blast Off, but to him, they were nothing but pretty flashing lights.

It wasn’t fair. Blast Off knew all this numbers stuff, and seemed like he could take any sort of order without more than a twitch, while Brawl felt like his processor was going through a grater every time the programming kicked in to force him to do whatever Megatron told him to. And the shuttle didn’t even seem to realize how lucky he was, with his super-fast processor and his wings and his easy acceptance of everything.

None of them did. Onslaught and his tactics and how he could shove all that anger down and lock it away, and his weird ability to guess what other people were going to do. Swindle and his sneaky ability to think himself out of any trouble, and Vortex, who was worse than Blast Off because he wasn’t just calm about his orders, he was downright _cheerful._ Nothing ever seemed to get to him, and Brawl didn’t think he’d ever seen the helicopter angry.

Not like Brawl, who didn’t seem to feel anything _except_ angry these days. And all that rage build up under his plating, with him unable to take it out on Megatron because of the stupid programming. It made him angry just thinking about the programming, which made him angry at Blast Off because the fragging shuttle didn’t _get it_. Brawl kicked the console in front of him.

“Stop that,” Blast Off said, annoyed.

That was better. The fragging shuttle could feel some of his frustration. Brawl kicked the console again, harder, just to make Blast Off angry. _See how he likes it._

“If you don’t knock that off, I will eject you here, and watch as your body burns to nothing during re-entry,” Blast Off told him. “It will hurt. A great deal. And then you will be dead.”

Brawl hunched into the chair. Stupid fragging shuttle and his stupid fragging faster processor.  



End file.
